Number 87
From a recent Garner's Usage Tip of the Day by Bryan Garner:
"Chink" (= a fissure or slit, as in armor) derives from the Middle English noun "chine," meaning "crack." The set phrase is "chink in the armor" ~ often elaborated to "chink in [someone's] armor." But because the word "Chink" is also a racial slur against the Chinese (dating from the late 19th century), some have begun erroneously writing "kink in the armor," the word "kink" suggesting an irregularity or imperfection.
I'm reminded of the Welsh pediatrician who was attacked by illiterate local villagers (with torches?!) who thought she was a pedophile, simply because they got the words mixed up. Likewise, a Washington D.C. government official felt he had to resign because of his shocking use of the word "niggardly". Dict.org says that "niggard" comes from Icelandic, of all things: [Icel. hn["o]ggr niggardly, stingy + -ard; cf. Sw. njugg, AS. hne['a]w.]
The Olympics are interesting enough that I can't attend to any minor linguistic glitches, but we couldn't help sitting up when a reporter said, "Records are falling like hot cakes!" They're probably falling like banshees too.
Here's a word list I'm starting to compile:
Why is it we give lip service to diversity, but any discussion of actual differences in the center of the universe here, meaning the US ("us") of A, leads immediately to accusations of stereotyping. It's OK to be different, it's great to be different, but don't point out the differences.
Language conveys information about experience. Experience is infinitely complex and before we are even able to speak about it, we have to sort it out, discard most of it, and simplify it in order to manage it at all. For example, if you stand on any street corner in any town, you'll see and hear and feel more than you could report, starting from the pavement and ending with the sky.
Let your eyes rest on just one human being. You would need a universe of knowledge to fully convey everything there is to understand about that person ~ the physical reality alone encompasses the external appearance, including gender, clothing, hairstyle, etc.; the physiological or medical, which a casual observer is not likely to perceive; the historic, i.e. DNA as well as whatever else the person's ancestors have contributed to that being, as well as the person's biography; and on and on. So we condense our minimal perceptions in order to be able to talk about who we've met.
When we get to abstractions, there's even more information to ignore (or to abstract). Suppose we want to talk about a group of people. We mentally group them by gender, geography, color, religion, age, and so on.
"Stereotyping," then, is necessary to mentally and verbally process experience. When the stereotype is too crude, too emotionally charged, or so oversimplified as to be inaccurate, then it is no longer functional. But to dispense with stereotypes entirely would be to make communication nearly impossible. Who was that lady I saw you with last night? That was no lady, that was my wife: but that person wasn't a lady, and maybe wasn't even female because we don't want to leap to conclusions based on clothing and hairstyle choices. (When the pop group The Village People first appeared on the scene, some people who didn't want to resort to stereotypes about gay men wouldn't admit the group was supposed to play on gay stereotypes.) Let's tighten up national security instead of going to war; but to be fair, at the airport let's treat aged American women with blue eyes and transparently white skin the same way we treat young men with dark eyes, hair, skin, and foreign accents ("foreign," not "international"; see PO 11). A certain amount of stereotyping saves time.
Sometimes people object to images of their particular demographic in a TV show, for instance, because they're too stereotypical, or else because they're not enough like whatever self-image they have, i.e. the general public is accused of only accepting a less general public in the media if they're like the "majority". Can't win that one nohow.
"Propaganda," like "rhetoric" (see PO 80) has gotten a bad name. Yourdictionary.com defines it thusly:
The systematic propagation of a doctrine or cause or of information reflecting the views and interests of those advocating such a doctrine or cause. Material disseminated by the advocates or opponents of a doctrine or cause: wartime propaganda. [. . . from ablative feminine gerundive of Latin prpgre, to propagate; see propagate.]
Some institutions, including governments and churches, come right out with it and have departments for propaganda.
Maybe you know the "conjugation" game: I am firm, you are stubborn, he is pig-headed. I stand by my beliefs, you are a bit rigid in your beliefs, he spouts propaganda. (This is a fun party game, by the way.)
Have you ever propagated your own views or interests? Self-interest is inevitable, but what's important is truth.
In PO 79, I copied the poem "Litany" by Poet Laureate Billy Collins. Last week I happened to hear him on a 2002 Prairie Home Companion program, reciting that poem, and you may hear it too, and also poems about a dog and forgetfulness, at http://prairiehome.publicradio.org/programs/20020420/. (Go down to the 1:10:45 link.)
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